Stexi Drabbles
by Pixiesandenvy
Summary: A collection of scenes and sometimes story I felt were missing from the show.
1. Gone Gone Gone

_He killed her._

 _He killed her._

 _He killed her._

No sound, no word, and no thought were yielded to the striking cobalt blues that may have once been able to breach the violent rhythm of his fist as it repeatedly connected with his brother's face.

 _I will make it an eternity of misery for you._

A promise Damon maintained for decades in various forms of gore, or more specifically: beheadings. Never wanting Stefan to forget that if it hadn't been for that one decision, that one instant of absolute selfishness as the sun rose in eighteen-sixty-four and he failed to say goodbye, none of this would be happening and _she_ wouldn't have become another causality in his cruel commitment.

 _But she was._ _The golden shine and mock halo of hair she'd spent close to an hour styling in preparation for his birthday celebrations at the grill, reduced to a temporary fitting that would dwindle and decay upon a stiff greying mass – body that marked her former place in the world – but no longer housed her spirit._

An unexpected blow connected with his chest, sensing the momentary chink in his armour, shadowed by a boot to his left knee.

With an animalistic snarl he increased his efforts – his blind drive for revenge – overlooking the pain as he kicked, punched and threw his brother around the room, frantic for blood – Damon's blood – indifferent as years of memories scattered with rough disregard, tattered and broken on the floor, crushed beneath their stampeding soles.

 _Most collected with her._

"Come on, I did this for you. To get them off our trail." Damon spat indignantly as his back collided with the wall, discouraging a hit, weakly justifying his betrayal – _her murder_ – as if they were children again and Stefan should be an appreciative co-conspirator.

"You never do anything for anyone but yourself," Stefan uttered, impassive, unmoved as he reached for the weapon he'd stolen from Zach's trove of anti-vampire gear and tucked into the waistband of his pants. Stake he swiftly buried in his brother's chest and twisted to force between the shield of bone around his heart, observing as the derisiveness vanished from Damon's eyes and gave way to watery shock.


	2. It Has To End

Stefan didn't kill him.

 _He couldn't._

Innate guilt—stronger than his suffocating sorrow for his fallen friend and over a century in the making—wouldn't allow it, wouldn't sanction him the strength to drive the wood the last inch required to pierce his cruel still beating heart.

Hands shook, knuckles white from the force it took to battle the opposing thought, one that reasoned a final end to his demons, to his concerns about Elena's safety and anyone else whom may unwittingly find themselves in brother's line of fire.

And there would be more.

Victims. Enemies. A number of faceless casualties piled and knitted together until Damon got what he wanted.

A goal that still hadn't become any clearer.

 _Unless his aim was to provoke Stefan's insanity._

Tears distorted his vision and before Damon could see them fall before Stefan could scorn the voice in his head that _still_ called the injured monster snared in his trap brother, he got up and walked away.

 _He didn't return that night._ _Or the next._


	3. Found You

It took him twelve weeks, ten hours and forty-three minutes to find her body. Sallow husk speckled with bite marks as nature endeavoured to feast and caked dirt.

"Is that her?"

Stefan didn't look up or address the inquiring voice to his left. They'd already found two other bodies.

"Stefan?"

His companion crouched and stretched to remove a leaf from her hair, to attempt to brush the matted and indistinguishable curls from her covered eyes, action Stefan stopped with near wrist snapping intensity.

"Don't," Stefan ordered, deadpan. He released the man's wrist in the same instant, unrepentant as the young deputy rubbed at the tender bone.

After his violent confrontation with Damon at the boarding house, Stefan had headed to the station, shaping himself to the shadows to wait on Sheriff Forbes – unwitting culprit who played witness and contributed to his best friend's murder – in hopes of sniffing out where or what she might have done with Lexi's body.

 _He prayed she hadn't burned her._

The plan itself had been modest enough but as the minutes ticked on to hours, life once steering back to mundane 911 calls of indiscreet birds in lofts and poorly wired alarms, he grasped how badly he'd underestimated the council's ability to hide the otherworldly mayhem under their population's nose.

Deputy Dewey a.k.a Christopher Michaels was a last and desperate resort for answers. A strategy that dawned on Stefan as the unacquainted stranger made his way to his car after an especially long shift.

He followed him home, contemplating the stranger's possible role in the supernatural world and the fact that—if it all went wrong—he'd have revealed who and what he was.

 _Two things he'd only a week ago been begging his brother not to do._

Security was a minor inconvenience and once inside, he learned Chris lived with his fifty-six-year-old divorcee mother, two toy poms and an obsession with Jennifer Aniston. _Information that came with compulsion and discovery. One of which he hadn't needed human blood to accomplish. Just rage._

An investment that paid off two months after Lexi's death and only after Stefan carefully influenced Chris to insinuate himself in their dark world.

"I'll get the car and bring it closer," Chris proposed, rising, collecting both their spades before heading off into the trees.

Stefan dug his hands into the dirt, peeling clumps of wet sand, dead twigs and rocks away as carefully as an archaeologist discovering a sacred temple, steadily revealing the rest of her buried body.

There were tears in his eyes and onus in his heart for not being strong enough to avenge her as she deserved, for not accepting her offer to join her in the gardens for that Jon Bon Jovi concert.

 _If only he'd said yes._

Chris's footsteps were heard trudging through the woods, cursing as his tired legs threatened to give way and the day's lack of sustenance began to kick in.

Ever since the tomb vampires escape and the extra 'animal attacks' that needed covering up in Mystic Falls, Liz—and her tight-knit squad of hieratical backers—had become a bit sloppy, putting more pressure on the department, forcing them to seek help outside their inner circle. Fatefully feeding into Stefan's scheme.

A blanket dropped to the ground beside him, along with a size sixteen sundress bought at forever21.

"Take that back to the car," Stefan directed, disregarding the delicate fabric, unfolding the blanket and spreading it out in the muck as if preparing for a picnic.

"You don't need help?"

Stefan's eyes flicked to the officer's face, features unsmiling. Chris lifted his hands in surrender, dress waved like a white flag, boots crunching as he backed up and headed for the car again, affording his assumed friend the privacy he wanted.

Stefan crawled to her side again, double checking to make sure he'd freed Lexi's body of anything that could snag or scratch her skin and lifted her out of the shallow hole, setting her down in the middle of the blanket as tenderly as a sleeping child. He smoothed her hair from her face and winced as the right side peeled away from her scalp, tethered by a piece of discoloured skin that might as well have been leather, maggots stuck to the underside like wiggling lifers. He removed them with all the care and precision of a mother, flicking them aside, pushing the skin back and wincing as it furled back up. There was nothing left in her to hold it in place, no fluids, no blood. All that remained was matured skin, bone and the war torn outfit she'd worn the night of his birthday.

He covered her up, sealing her in the blanket and then lifted her off the ground, slowly carrying her through the forest, careful not to jostle her too much, her head uncovered and resting in the cradle of his left shoulder as he walked.

 _Each step making him feel whole again._


	4. It Comes Together

He had always loved her, always cherished and valued the fact that she'd selflessly taken it upon herself to be his personal saviour—he wouldn't be where or who he is today without her—but he hadn't grasped, not until he'd lost her, how hard it would be to function without her.

 _Or how hard it was to accept that he needed to._

He always imagined that if he lost Damon—the last living connection to his lost family—that he would have nothing and be nothing, but he was wrong, so very wrong. He knew that with all the clarity of a prophet, had known it from the instant Damon calculatingly twisted the stake in Lexi's heart and severed their ties. Stefan was always slow when it came to his brother's bad habits, too quick to forgive certain acts, so catching on to that fact had taken awhile and come in consistent forms of bedlam.

Lexi. Vicki. Katherine. Rapacious tomb vampires free to torment.

 _Most of which were still out there and ready for clean-up._

"Here's some water. I warmed it so the dirt should come off a bit easier," Chris added, setting a half filled bucket with a facecloth on the floor at Stefan's feet.

They'd returned to his house an hour ago and snuck Lexi's body into the basement.

"Is this all you need? I got to go."

Stefan's eyes lifted from his focus on the floor, a small frown marring his brow.

"I have work, remember? Nightshift. We're scrubbing the cemetery tonight and Sheriff Forbes has told us we might be doing a raid on the bars outside town. Seems there has been an increase of attacks in that area."

Stefan glanced down at the bucket, reaching inside to feel the temperature.

"Sure. Yeah. This is perfect," Stefan said, removing his hand from inside to wipe it dry on his jeans.

After months of meticulously making sure Chris didn't draw suspicion or change patterns in any way, it embarrassed Stefan to know that he'd let his guard down and lost track of their schedule. Damon needed only one opportunity or hint to inject himself into the equation and all his plans would go to hell.

Chris turned to leave and before he made it to the bottom of the stairs, Stefan had a hand secured around his shoulder and his back pressed against the narrow wall.

"I just wanted to thank you. I wouldn't have found her without you."

Chris smiled and Stefan returned the sentiment, almost fondly, almost wishing that he and the Deputy could continue to be friends and share a beer in the future. He'd come to like the guy. To respect him even. Lexi especially would have liked him. His mother, too.

"Unfortunately, this'll be the last time we see each other. Casually at least."

Chris's confusion was easy to read. This was the only part of the plan he hadn't felt was significant enough to share.

"My brother is still out there. _Unstable_. Especially since things with Katherine fell flat and he is beginning to dig for alternatives. As careful as I like to think that I've been over the last few months while searching for Lexi, I can never be sure what he knows and what he does and what he might want. He'll leverage anything and anyone."

"From the highlights you've told me I'm glad I never got to meet him," Chris quipped.

"Let's try and keep it that way." Stefan removed his hand and centred on his gaze.

Chris left with the satisfaction of having _fixed_ the circuit breaker and oblivious of Stefan Salvatore as anyone other than Mystic High's football star.

Stefan listened to the wheels of his car pulling out of the drive, uncertain and a bit surprised that his compulsion was taking without the added benefit of human blood.

Maybe the fact he'd been doubled up on his feeds, making sure he constantly had the strength to protect Elena was the help? Or maybe it was something else? Something spiritual? He didn't dare speculate and could only revel in gratitude when the car didn't turn back into the drive, followed by hasty footsteps.

 _Chris wouldn't be back till morning and his mother was at bingo until 11 pm. Carpooled by neighbours. A constant on the weekends._

Stefan had some time.

He returned to Lexi's side and carefully undressed her. He started with her shoes, then her jewellery, her makeup long time faded and then proceeded to the remainder.

He'd seen her naked many times over the course of the years they'd been friends, but now, she looked nothing like herself, nothing like the person he'd come to love as a sister or who he'd hoped she'd be again if all went according to plan.

Her resurrection had come to him on chance and after he'd jokingly spoken to Bonnie about magic induced reincarnation during cocktails, pizza and music at the Grill. Idea implanted by some Hallmark movie she'd been gushing about with Caroline. Apparently, there was none. Not as far as Bonnie knew anyway but they'd debated what each of them knew on the subject, reminiscing about who they'd bring back and why. Bonnie left that night tipsy and in tears. Stefan left determined. Seed planted. A resolution that crept on and prodded for two nights, haunting him, coming at him once in form of Lexi herself to try and dissuade what was brewing.

Over the next few days, he found out everything he could about the subject and then sought a second opinion. Another witch. That was no easy task and eventually, he'd been forced to call Lee. They weren't friends by any means and Lexi's death had out and out ended any possibility of them ever forging one. But Stefan knew he loved her. He called him, persistently and eventually spoke to him. Lee all but told Stefan to lose his number—refusing to give him a second to speak up or explain the reason for his contact—telling him to call him only once he'd found a way to bring Lexi back or pigs flew.

 _Then he hung up._

That had been all the encouragement Stefan had needed to pick up the pace on his search.

 _And here they were._

He gently began to wipe her down, removing traces of dirt clinging to her skin and eventually slipped her into the newly bought sundress.

White, adorned with painted sunflowers and a superficial representation of who she once was.

She'd have liked that, too.

 _Maybe._

When Stefan was done he sat beside her, holding her skeletal hand as if trying to comfort her, thumb stroking the top of her leather skin.

"You'll be home soon."

He raised the hand to his lips, hearing her melodic protest at the overly courteous and almost tragic way he'd pressed a kiss to it.

" _Promise_."


End file.
